


wouldn't call him a prince

by megamegaturtle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, princess and the cat au, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megamegaturtle/pseuds/megamegaturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess and the Cat AU. </p><p>So, Marinette gets this new cat...</p>
            </blockquote>





	wouldn't call him a prince

Chicken sizzles with a pop in a searing hot pan. The local station is currently on commercial break, but that doesn’t stop Marinette from singing the latest jingle.

“Meow mix, meow mix, you’re my jam.”

Tikki sits on the counter, bobbing along to the song as she chews on a cookie that is at least double her size. In this moment, Marinette thinks that the world is perfect. And the scratching at her back door is only icing on the cake as she quickly checks if the chicken is cooked enough to eat.

With her good luck, of course it is.

There’s a dance in her step as she bounces from foot to foot, humming a song she doesn’t know the words. Piling the food on a plate, she makes her way outside to her back doorstep. As her hand is turning the knob, she can already hear the impatient meowing on the other side.

She bites back a laugh. “Hold on, kitty cat!”

Opening the door, her gaze drops down to see–in her biased opinion–the most beautiful black cat in the world. As always, he sits nicely, his tail twitching back and forth as he blinks up at her with stunning green eyes.

The tomcat licks his paw, rubbing it over his face before standing up. He rubs his face on her leg as he circles her like a hungry shark waiting for his meal. Marinette only chuckles as she tries to side step her feline guest.

She clicks her tongue, but even the kitty knows she doesn’t mean her scold. “If you just wait for a second, you silly cat.”

Yet he doesn’t as he hops up on the table she has outside, tapping his little black paws, waiting for her to put the plate down. Marinette is positive that if he was a dog, he would be panting.

But she can only offer a smile as she watches the stray happily eat the food in front of him, his sharp teeth tearing at the poultry.

Sometimes, if she’s really lucky, he’ll let her pet him. She can just trail a few fingers from the base of head down to the tip of tail. However, today is not one of those days as he hisses at her, narrowing those green eyes she loves her way.

“Okay, okay,” she apologizes with a smile while pouring water in a water bowl for him.

A few seconds tick by when she starts talking to the cat again. “You know,” she starts. “You remind me of a very special kitty I used to know.”

As if he understands that she’s about to tell a story, the black cat slows his chewing and glances up at her.

Leaning against the wall of her place, she lets out a little sigh, tangled up in bittersweet nostalgia. “Yep. He was a black cat just like you, though he was far more annoying,” she says with a laugh. Tucking a hair behind her ear, she continues, “And I never thought I would lose him but–” she stops to collect herself for a moment because she’s just talking to a cat. “But, I go on vacation once and my silly kitty got lost for good.”

Looking down, she notices that the stray is done when he starts to lap the water in his bowl, and Marinette takes it as her cue to clean up the mess. She can’t really stop the words when they’re out of her mouth though, despite that no one really could hear them.

“God it’s been such a long six months without him…” Rubbing her eyes, she lets out a groan, ” I just wish I knew where Chat Noir went.”

She doesn’t notice that the black cat has stopped from grooming himself, his green eyes wide at her words. All that captures her attention is the slight screams she can hear in the distance.

“Tikki!” she calls, “Hurry!”

And just as she didn’t realize that the black cat was caught on her words about Chat Noir, she definitely doesn’t see the look he makes when she transforms into Ladybug.

After all, he’s just a cat.

* * *

Marinette isn’t sure what it is, but lately her stray cat is becoming less of a stray and more of a member of her family. Maybe it all started a few weeks ago when she got home from a long day and he was just waiting for her on her doorstep. As usual, he greeted her with an affectionate rub with his face, but this time, instead of staying outside, he walked right into her home.

At first, she began to freak out, unsure what a stray cat would do in her organized house, but to her surprise, he just acted calmly and looked at her like he wanted her to follow.

So, that’s the story about how Marinette now has a black cat who lives with her and Tikki.

“Chat Noir,” she calls him when she comes inside, “I got you a surprise!”

And on cue, a four little paws pitter patter in a run to the front door, the bell around his neck ringing all the while. He bounds around the corner before she has even set her bag downs, but he’s waiting in his spot on the credenza to be petted.

With an eye roll, she puts her bags down and smooths her hands over his fur. “You really live up to your namesake, you know.”

If cats could grin, then her little Chat Noir knows how to do it.

But he’s quickly leaving her touch and going through her bags, looking for the present she got him.

“Hey!” she chides. “How many times have I told you not to just go through bags?”

However, if cats could raise a brow, then Marinette is proud to say that her cat knows how to do that too. Yet she gives him a playful shove off the tabletop, laughing as he meows at her while she digs into the bag to give him his surprise. He swings a paw at her leg, his way of smacking her when he’s upset, but she pays him no mind.

Crouching down, she dangles a new toy for him to play with and is excited to know how he’ll react to it. To her dismay though, Chat Noir quickly walks away, flicking his tail in her face for good measure.

With a sigh, she sends a look to Tikki who has been resting on her shoulder. “I thought he would like this one…”

Tikki only giggles. “But Marinette, Chat Noir is too smart to play with that,” she says. “He’d rather watch TV.”

At the kwami’s words, the TV in the living room turns on, the announcer claiming that the latest fencing match is about to begin.

“You know–I’m still trying to figure out how he learned to turn on the TV.”

* * *

Some people might consider black cats to be bad luck, but not Marinette.

For example, ever since Chat Noir (her cat–not the person because she has yet to forgive him for just leaving her!) has come into her life, she’s dressed better. If she dares to wear an outfit that is less than fashionable, her cat carolles her back to her bedroom to try on something else. And he’s a very good listener when she’s complaining about all sorts of problems–Ladybug or otherwise–and knows when she needs some kitty love to make her blues go away.

The only downside to having her new pet is that he scares all her dates away.

So, tonight’s the night she will have a talk with her cat if it’s the last thing she’ll do.

“Chat Noir,” she yells. “Come here, kitty kitty!”

Unlike usual where he comes at the moment he’s beckoned, little kitty feet drag themselves to her room, his sulking already apparent as she gets ready for a night out. She’s putting on her makeup when she hears him jump on the bed making it squeak. In the mirror’s reflection, she sees him rest his head on his paws as he stares at her, his ears flat and his bad mood beyond noticeable. Tikki tries to nuzzle up to him, but that only makes him happy for a brief moment before he returns to sulking.

She frowns in the mirror, unhappy that her cat is so unhappy. Turning around, she hops over to him, and lay her face right next to his. “C’mon, kitty kitty. It’s just a date.”

To her words, he just turns his head, pouting and heaves a feline sigh. Marinette suppresses a giggle, knowing that it’ll just upset him. With a loving hand, she itches the spot right behind his ear, “Please, Chat Noir,” she pleads. “Don’t be a meanie when my date shows up tonight, okay?”

Her kitty still refuses to look to at her.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Would it be okay that I’m only going on these dates to get over the real Chat Noir?”

To that, cat Chat Noir snaps his head at her, his green eyes big.

She only nods her head, a little smiling forming on her face. “It’s true,” she says, her words wistful. “I’ve known him since we were teenagers and I was really falling for him…”

Her heart twists for a second before she continues, caught up in memories filled with blond hair and green eyes, puns and silly flirtations that made her heart beat fast. “But before I ever told him–poof–he disappeared when I went on a trip to China with my parents.”

Of course, her cat can’t say anything so she just clears her throat and stands up, “So, just know that I love both him and you a lot, okay?”

With a hum, she bends down and presses a little kiss to his furry head, words already in her mouth about to praise him when her room lights up and there’s a familiar flash.

But those words die in her mouth and this time, it’s her eyes that go wide when she sees human Chat Noir sitting in the middle of her bed, wearing the most sheepish grin.

“Hi, Princess–or rather my Lady,” he waves. “Um…I guess the cat’s out of the bag?” 

When her doorbell and later her phone rang that night, Marinette wasn’t able to answer. 

After all, isn’t it best to confess to the love of your love that you love him when he’s an actual person?

BONUS:

Marinette is trying to wrap her head around that her cat Chat Noir was actually person Chat Noir and that person Chat Noir is actually Adrien Agreste.

Talk about having her mind blown.

But that’s a different story altogether.

Instead, she’s happy to just be curled up on the couch next to the man (men?) she’s thought was missing for eight months, but turned out he’s been with her longer than she knew. It’s warm in her apartment as they rest in her living room and she’s tucked into his side and his feet are propped up onto her coffee table.

“So, you love me?”

Marinette shoots him a glare, poking him in the side. “Shut up.”

Chat–person Chat!–gah–Adrien, gives her a once over and lazily drags his foot near some cups on the coffee table.

Marinette tenses, knowing exactly what he’s doing from his cat days. Her mouth presses into a firm line. “Don’t you dare.”

If he still had a tail to twitch, Marinette is positive it would flick, once, twice, thrice before he gives her that stupid cat grin.

“Chat–”

And he totally dares as there is a glint to eyes and he innocently bumps his foot into the glass.

“–Noir!”

Sometimes black cats are just bad luck after all. 


End file.
